The Lazy Town Teens
by Dianasaur
Summary: The Lazy Town Kids are no longer the closest of friends as they emerge into their life as teenagers. Each yearning for the past they think is inrepairable, until they stumble onto the opportunity once again. PLEASE R&R! No reviews, no updates!
1. Present Day

Thing's were _different_ now. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing; in fact, maybe it even gave room to grow...but thing's were definitely not the same in Lazy Town. At least, they weren't for the Lazy Town kids. As they'd gotten older, their individual personalities and interests became more defined in their lives. Soon, the kids had different friends, and that worked out fine for awhile. However, the time they'd spent with each other was soon fading into occasional hellos until they weren't acknowledging one another at all. Even Stephanie Meanswell, who had been so determined to keep the group together because of her happy memories of childhood with them...soon, realized this could not be. They were teenagers now, they were going to high school...She convinced herself,_ maybe it was just time to grow up. _

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**CHAPTER ONE: **Present Day

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A sigh escaped the pink haired girl as she saw Trixie with her group of friends after school near the lockers. Stephanie herself had become quite an idol in the small high school seeing as how she was the varsity cheerleading team captain, an active volunteer for school events, and an honor roll student all of her attending years. The other teenagers all seemed to like her, because she was always open to try new things. Confident, but polite, the young girl had gained much attention for her accomplishments from everyone including the more popular male students. There wasn't usually a complaint about her behavior, and everything went well for her regularly. _Easy breezy_, Steph thought sarcastically, _except when it came to talking to the asian girl who I use to be so close to. _

Stephanie would never complain to anyone about it, except for the worn pink diary that still contained all of her thoughts. She was missing something, and she felt lonely even in a crowded room. No matter how many friends she made there was always something nagging her. Often the teen would ignore it, or at least shrug it off for awhile--But it was continually coming back. Steph missed her old life, her old friends, her _own_ confidants who she trusted with all the secrets she contained...Everyone she knew seemed to like everything she liked, and at first it was exciting. Someone to dance with, someone to shop with, someone to cheer with were all wonderful friends to have! Except for the fact that suddenly it all became normal, and no one seemed to want to do anything different e_ver_.

Steph couldn't help missing the odd asian girl who smiled with mischievousness. She missed the girl who continually laughed at evil schemes, and seemed hesitant sometimes to help those who betrayed her. _But...**But**_, Stephanie thought strongly, _Trixie was always there for you when you needed her! _When it came to it, Trixie always changed her mind and realized that no matter what you were still her friend. That she should still help you, because it'd be the right thing to do! Trixie was always so confident, and always ran into 'battle' to give you a helping hand without thinking of the consequences first.

A strong ally, a strong _friend_, and someone who always made you feel protected. She was an amazing person in her own right, and definitely someone who you could look up to. Sure, she was a bit odd at times, but everyone is. Trixie could be overbearingly certain of herself and her actions...and sometimes hurtful, but always honest. That's what Trixie was, and wasn't that the type of person you could learn to love too? Stephanie frowned at the one thought that crossed her mind, as she took a place on the floor behind the wall. Averting her brown eyes towards the windows of the school which looked out on the senior eating areas..._Trixie was the type of best friend who'd do anything for you, even if it meant she'd suffer for it. What friends do I have like that now? _The harsh blow to her spirit was the fact that the answer was overwhelmingly a constant none. Everything was so superficial. The girl sighed, and _hardly real_...  
_  
_Stephanie had found in her many years how to fake a smile quite successfully in front of her peers, and how to ignore the sickening feelings that usually possessed her. Realizing this was another time to shrug off her discomforting thoughts, she stood back up. The pink haired girl then threw her pink book bag lazily over her shoulder, and straightened out the skirt she wore. It was time to head out, and clear her head with the fresh air of the town's sunny day. Only giving the dark haired girl who was laughing so happily with her friends one last look of sadness, before disappearing through the standard blue double doors of the high school.

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Trixie herself had grown up quite well, at least physically so. Any chubbiness that may have been in her childhood was worked away, and replaced with lean muscles as a gift for working so hard. Exercising herself, and pushing herself to the limits gave her the opportunity to find many successful ways to relax the built up tension that was also given to her as she got older. Her patience had become so thin as she got older that it was hard to contain, and she often had no real desire to keep her mouth shut from telling you exactly what she thought. For this lack of politeness she had gained _(oddly enough)_ many friends, and many enemies as well as a reputation that gave people mixed feelings about who she really was.

Confidence which was often mistaken for leadership ability made her the automatic 'face' of a group of people who mocked her rebel style. They were a less popular side of the small, brightly colored school. Usually people who didn't know where they belonged, or didn't feel they fit in with the other preppy students that attended. These people she gladly made her friends with no real strings attached.

Skateboarding, rollerblading, running, and martial arts were favorite hobbies of hers which she regularly indulged in with good responses. Her friends idolized her skating, and blading skills. The gym teacher and track students gawked at her agility, endurance and speed when running. The record of fist fighting she had **always** declared her the winner, but she wasn't _much_ admired by the faculty for that. However, the students praised her for it, or kept away from her. Both of which were easily understood by Trixie, who didn't care much either way.

The girl had long retired her three ponytails in turn for one in the back of her delicate head. Out of most likely laziness she allowed her hair to grow long enough that when let down it fell to her butt in silky locks of black. Trixie also had bangs which hid her eyebrows, and lingered just slightly above her eyes. A single bright, thick red stripe of hair rested there above her left eye. A few long strands also rested themselves near her ears which were brutally pierced a record of eight times in which seven were through cartilage. Her sophomore year she also decided on getting two piercings on either side of her bottom lip, and left her interest in piercing at that.

Trixie, and her friends, were also known for their odd style of clothing. Contrasting the brightly dressed people of the school, they wore baggy black pants with many pockets, and crossing straps in the back. Usually these pants were decorated with skulls, paperclips, or other darkly animated ideas. However, Trixie's favorite pants were nothing like that. Just simple, worn, and tight jeans with written words, which were slashed up to reveal her kneecaps and other innocent parts of her skin which she wore that sunny Friday.

"You up for skatin' at the park tonight, Trix?" One of the six oddly dressed guys standing around her said while she closed her locker. It was easy to see most of her friends were males, and it hardly bothered her at all. She'd never been a stereotypical girl, and she'd **never** be one. Trixie had long settled that inner debate awhile ago, and let herself be stuck in the middle like she figured she'd always be. _Besides_, Trixie always thought with a laugh,_ who needed the drama of girl friends that center their life around Hollywood and the superficial all the time? _There was so much more to life then that. For instance, there were much better hobbies like pranking the local nerd or new teacher. There was also the certain unique glory of having a group of sexists be stunned when you kick their butts in a sport they so declared you'd never be good at. "We still have that idiot who thinks he's the best skater in town. I know he's been itching to show you a good time." The dark haired guy laughed, as he adjusted his skateboard under his arm.

Trixie smiled secretly to herself, as she put on her old black messenger bag. When it came to skateboarding, these guys were her best friends, but when it came to anything else they weren't much good for anything. _Oh well, _Trixie thought as her small smile turned into a smirk, _Atleast they're good for something._ "Nah. I'll beat him tomorrow. I have better things to do today then deflate a small boy's narcissistic ego." After tightening her ponytail, she pulled out a thick permanent marker from the pocket of her blood red hoodie. On her blue locker whose paint was slightly chipped was some sort of calendar. This calendar counted down to the end of school, where she gladly took the ink to the scribbled title of the month. She drew a clean line across it, and then she tucked the marker back into her pocket. "I'll catch you losers later." Trixie said casually, and took one or two's of the teenager's hands in a hand gesture of familiarity before heading towards the exit.

"Seeya, T." Trixie didn't look back, just waved a lazy hand from her position with her back towards the collected group of individuals.

"Yeah, Yeah. Bye."

Like Stephanie, Trixie was also someone who contained things inside of her. Well, somewhat anyway. Instead of expressing her worries, fears, or hurts in proper conversation she took it out on other people. When things went wrong, she saw no need to take things easily. No, everything was going all wrong, and was she the only one to see it? Was she the only one to see these horrible, gaping flaws in absolutely everything? God, she wanted to get away so bad...Get away from this **stupid** town, with all the **stupid** kids who were too **stupid** to understand anything she ever tried to say! For the moment however, things were fine. Taking a deep breath, she settled all these angry thoughts as her legs automatically pushed her forward towards her destination.

The place she despised more than any other place on earth--Her _'home'_...the trailer where she had now resided in for so long more like a living corpse then an actual human being. With a mother who wouldn't even notice if she shot a bullet through her skull in the middle of dinner, and a father who...

Trixie's eyes wandered to the playing field where she use to spend so much of her time as a kid. It was now used for the school's after school practices, and a faint smile fell onto her face as she watched the soccer team jog around it as part of their warm up exercise. Fingertips trailing along a yellow brick wall, she watched from the opposite side of the wall as a certain blond haired boy ran. He was number eleven on the team, one of the youngest as well, but skilled with elegant movements.

_Ziggy, _Trixie thought sadly, _He's doing well for himself. _It'd been so many years since they'd talked of anything. He seemed so much more like a faint dream then an actual person anymore, but then again, everyone in Trixie's past did. Her feet came to a stop, and she sighed. Trixie then leaned heavily against the wall, and burying her face in her hands. She took in the sounds of everything around her, and droned out the miserable feelings she was containing inside.

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* * *

Ziggy inhaled, and exhaled as he ran in line with most of his friends. Along with being a soccer player for the school's team he was also an active part of the after school cooking club. He'd started playing soccer two years before to get in shape to curb his superficial insecurities, but cooking was a talent he wasn't prepared to give up yet. Sportacus, who he still talked to occasionally on a free Saturday afternoon, encouraged his athletic extracurricular activities with much enthusiasm.

He still treasured Sportacus' advice, his role in the small town, and possibly treasured him as the closest thing to a fatherly figure he'd ever had. It was a part of his life he hadn't told anyone, and as far as anyone knew he might still have a dad 'stashed' at home somewhere who went unnoticed. Ziggy never really told about his home life, or even let anyone come over to his home. It was a personal boundary that no one crossed, and as long as they didn't Ziggy would be fine. _Perfectly fine... _

He was slightly shorter, and less muscular than most of the guys on the team. However, he wasn't at all as chubby as he imagined himself to be anymore. Although, the poor boy still never had the confidence that would be essential to him to get as far in life as he was truly capable of going. Ziggy was slightly shy, and sometimes allowed himself to be used as a door mat by others. He wasn't naive, but sometimes didn't spot an insult until it had already passed over his head. However, Ziggy did have friends of a disposition that wouldn't usually be messed with because of his goodhearted nature, and willingness to go to the aid of others. Because of these friendships many people stopped taking advantage of the poor freshman, who only really wanted to make his mother proud.

The guy's he hung out with on the soccer team considered him more like a young brother then an equal, however. Ziggy was quite use to the position, and every time they slung an arm around his shoulders to congratulate him on a good game--he was reminded of the friendships he'd lost along the path to where he was now. He didn't even see the sorrowful asian so far away from the playing field, despite him probably being overjoyed at the discovery of his old friend being so close for contact. However, Trixie was hardly willing to stick around for an hour and a half until Ziggy's practice was over to greet someone who she wasn't even certain remembered her face, or cared to remember it.

A sigh escaped his lips as he poured a bottle of cool water over his sweaty, hot freckled face. Ziggy's friendly, but tired blue eyes closing for a few moments to bask in the relaxing contrast between the two sensations of weather and water. "Good job today, Son." The coach said to him from the side. This caused Ziggy to stiffen slightly in surprise at the name. Shaking off the over exaggerating feeling of alarm, he shook his head slightly before taking the back of his hand to wipe off some of the moister from his face. _It's just a name,_ Ziggy reasoned with himself, _Don't act so surprized.  
_  
"T-Thanks, Coach." Ziggy smiled, turning his eyes to the older man who wore a dark sweatshirt in the hot weather. He always did. Ziggy found it completely insane to wear such a thing in such hot weather but never mentioned it.

"You have a good Saturday, boy. I'll see you on Sunday." Ziggy nodded his head, and the man returned with a short nod of acknowledgement of his own before turning away. Heading off the man placed a hand on his own son's shoulder, and the two exchanged a grin as they walked off in their similar destination. Ziggy's stomach clenched up, and he swallowed the lump in his throat from the scene. Shaking off the feeling he picked up his book bag, and his sports bag. Then he left towards the sidewalk which would guide him towards his home.

The quiet walk was once again a reminder of his odd circumstances. Passing by Stingy's house like he did everyday, he took a moment to admire the expensive house that was called home to his best friend... With a groan he corrected his thoughts, _old best friend_. Ziggy wondered how the boy was doing, and how life turned out for him. He, like many others, had heard the gossip during the summer that Stingy had been accepted to be a student at a well-known private school in the area. At first, he was overwhelmed with a sense of happiness for his old friend. Ziggy was sure that would be a great, and helpful boost to his future career plans.

That was, until he realized this meant he'd probably see less and less of the boy who was already fading away. Ziggy smiled sadly at these reviewed thoughts, and moved his feet forwards more. He missed Stingy. _No_, Ziggy realized, _I miss **EVERYONE**_. Stingy may have been a bit snobby, and self centered--but wasn't everyone at times? Ziggy knew he always turned a leaf, and realized what was important when the opportunity came. That was what was important. He gave one last look at the home which contained his friend who he was certain was so readily emerging in his future plans. "I hope you're doing well, Stingy." Ziggy whispered to himself, before heading the rest of the way towards his quiet two person home.

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Stingy sat there in his home, in front of his brand new laptop which sat at his large kitchen table. Hand in cheek; he didn't seem to be doing much typing that day. It was a ritual for him to scope the latest stocks, but today he seemed rather uninterested. _Odd, _Stingy mused to himself,_ I thought I'd be much happier once I bought this laptop. _The lanky teen wore his usual style clothing that the private school insisted made the students look like eager young adults.

Dress shirts, pants, shoes and suit jackets seemed to be the only fashion in the world of adult money making. Everyone looked the same there, and all conversed of their expensive tastes. This was perfectly acceptable by Stingy's standards. _Wasn't that a lot more mature then talking of other silly things like childish games? _Ha, the mere thought brought back the mental image of those silly kids he use to hang out with when he was in his younger years. Stingy definitely thought he was much happier without them, and their complete lack of concern for the future expenses!

"But, I guess **Pixel** would know how to help me modify this laptop to be more enjoyable...and show me how to find things on it besides what I see everyday. Maybe even a game or two that could interest me." Stingy said quietly to himself, before shutting off the laptop with a gentle hand pushing the monitor face down towards the keyboard.

Thing's in Stingy's world weren't going horribly. He didn't really have much to complain about really. Stingy's parents were away a lot on 'business', but that had always been. The teen sighed softly at the thought, resting his hands against the table top. Stingy wanted his dad's acceptance, and support more than anything else in the world. This was why he absolutely had to get good grades, and become someone of the **utmost importance **in high class society! He had to be like his dad. That's why he had to wear this tie, pretend he was an important person that you should take notice of, drink coffee, look at the stocks, look at the newspaper, and grow up fast! He couldn't worry about petty friends, and stupid emotions! Stingy nodded his head feverishly at the thought. If you had to push away a few little people to get to your thrown, then you had to do it!

..."I'm lonely." Stingy commented offhandedly, and stood up from his chair. He shook his head, and descending the stairs went to his large bedroom. It was a neat room with its pale yellow walls, and large floor space. Almost obsessively organized, all his expensive possessions were kept in their assigned places. Stingy walked over to his bed that had a small wooden shelf behind it, and picked up a pink glass piggy bank from his youth. He looked at it oddly, before sitting down on his bed. Falling backwards, he held the piggy bank above his head.

"No, I don't need anyone else but you, Piggy. Money's all that matters..." Stingy laid the item down on his chest, and idly gazed up at the ceiling. His fingertips rubbing against the painted glass of the bank as he continued his one sided conversation. "I don't need any pink haired girl enthusiastically convincing me otherwise, or any rebel spirits saving me from falling off an old tree house. I don't need any blond haired boy offering me candy so that I'll cheer up, or any computer geek showing me how to play the latest game. I don't need ...anyone." Stingy took a deep breath. "Nope, sure don't..." _Why would you?__

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_

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"Pixel, Pixel! _Pixel_, **PIXEL**… hunny! _Good lord_, Boy! Answer me, _right this minute_!" A chubby African American woman yelled up the staircase to try to gain the attention of her son. Sighing at her failure, she treaded up the staircase to her son's room muttering to herself. "One of these days I'm _really_ going to have to take those damned computers away from him."

When she burst open the door of the teenager's room he was sitting at his computer utterly emerged in a game of Counterstrike with his headset clamped over his ears. Shouting orders to the other online players through a small microphone connected to his headset while pressing keys, and moving a mouse rapidly under the palm of his hand. Lifting himself slightly from his chair, he finally shouted the words that were caught in his throat for so long. "WE DID IT!"

His mother looked less than pleased from the doorway, with her arms crossed. Shaking her head in disproval, she soon walked over and yanked the earphones from his head. Pixel immediately looked up at her at shock. He hadn't known she was there at all…_boy; she sure could be quiet couldn't she?_ "Hi, Mom." Pixel grinned innocently, as if hoping to dig his way out of whatever mess he'd gotten himself in from the way the older woman was gazing down at him.

"I'm disconnecting you. You go spend some time outside like _NORMAL_ people now, okay?" Pixel's expression immediately dropped.

"No, _No_…**No**, Mom! I'm in the middle of a tourna-" He swallowed back the debate when the woman's dark eyes narrowed. "…Yes, Mom. I will _right away_."

"Your father will be home from work soon. Make sure you're home in time for dinner. Have fun, Baby." The older woman's expression sweetened, as she kissed the boy's forehead. However, immediately it became sterner. "Now get your butt out that door, young man!" Pixel shut down his computer, and then immediately rushed out the door to avoid the wrath of the woman who was a lot stronger than she appeared to be. "What has the world come to, nowadays?"

Pixel sighed, and kicked some dirt under his shoe as he walked. "When I become a famous inventor, no one will dare disconnect me!" He whispered angrily to himself, as he pulled out his IPOD from his pocket. Inserting the pieces into his ear, Pixel turned it on and let him get lost in the music. If he had to walk around for awhile, he might as well with some tunes, right?

Pixel let himself think through the last few years in his boredom. In the high school, he'd already been promoted to the senior class to the resentment of the rest of the student body. Pixel was captain of the chess team though, and a vital part of the inventor's club after school. He sighed, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. _I'm the king of the geeks, _Pixel thought sourly, _won't they be jealous when they realize?  
_  
He was slightly chubby as a teenager, from his complete lack of exercise. Pixel didn't care though, except for the fact that his potential of getting a girlfriend was about the same as a zit's. Pixel laughed at the old memory of his crush on Stephanie, and her new found popularity. He had no idea what he was thinking back then. Pixel shrugged his shoulders sadly. What did it matter now anyway? They were obviously on two completely different sides of the 'totem poll' of high school popularity.

Pixel didn't know her now, but was pretty certain if he even attempted to walk up to her in the public eye of the high school hallways she'd completely resent their past friendship. Things had already crumbled and fallen apart, and from his calculations…

The chances of the 'lazy town kids' _ever_ becoming friends again was one percent to _none_….and _'there's always a way'_ just didn't seem to be true until a pink haired girl bumped into the African American boy. A spark in the brown eyes of the two old friends as they realized this was the opportunity they had been waiting for, for so long.


	2. Suckerpunched

It was around twelve-thirty AM when the dominant asian girl finally emerged from her trailor. She was in tears as she closed the door securely behind her. The thick wood of the door prevented the sound of yelling from being heard at the street. Trixie wiped her face where a red handprint adorned her cheek, walking down to the sidewalk and through the road without a passing glance for oncoming cars. Even so, she made it safely to the other side. The old park they use to play at with the swing set. The girl sat down on the blue plastic seat, her hands clasped around the smooth metal chainlink that was secured around the pole high above her head. It was so quiet. Her only apparant company were the streetlights which blared down orange-yellow, making a small halo of light above her head. Trixie leaned forward, dropping the chainlink and covering her face with her hands. "I've got to get out of here." She mumbled to herself, only for it to be heard by a man who stood behind her.

"Why are you not in bed? It's past 8:08." The man crossed his muscular arms. He no longer wore his old suit, but a simple blue shirt adorning a white 10 on the chest with a pair of jeans. His brown hair sparkled in the streetlights where a pair of goggles rested in a memorable way where his hat would originally have been. Trixie sat up, brown eyes gazing wetly at the man. Prepared to yell at him for his intrusion, the words died on her tongue when she realized who the man was.

"Sportacus?" Trixie mumbled, observing the man's face which had a few more wrinkles on it since she'd last seen him. He smiled briefly at her until he saw she had been crying.

Looking over at the empty seat next to her on the swingset, Sportacus let down his arms as one hand took the chainlink. "Can I sit here, Trixie?" A simple nod of agreement from her, and Sportacus claimed the seat as his own in a matter of an instance. "Do you want to talk?" The expression on his face changed into a pitiful one when he saw the teen girl look down at her shoes in hesitance. Things surely had changed, hadn't they? It seemed the kids he helped raise didn't feel comfortable talking to him anymore. Had it really been so long that they felt they couldn't trust him?

Trixie stood up, not looking back at the man. "It's late, you're right." Then she started walking off, but Sportacus grabbed her hand.

"Trixie, what is wrong?" Sportacus asked, really concerned at this point by the odd way the girl was acting. She was always an avoidant girl when it came to sharing emotions, but usually in a playful air of mystery. This seemed different, and Sportacus _hated_ it.

Trixie turned, giving him a forced smile, before taking her hand back. "Goodnight, Sporta_loser_." With that, she ran off leaving her swing swaying in her absence.

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The next day was Saturday, and Ziggy went to meet Sportacus in the park expecting him to be playing ball, doing jumping jacks, or atleast _something_ somewhat athletic. Instead, the older man was sitting still with his cheeks cupped in his hands as his elbows pressed into his legs. Completely Idle. Running over, the concerned Ziggy shook the man by the shoulders. "Sportacus? Are you feeling alright?"

"Trixie...are you both friends?" Sportacus questioned, sitting up straight at last. Ziggy's blue eyes stirred with the question, as if he had recieved a painful blow to the chest. The silence of the saturday air lingered for a few minutes, until the blond boy plopped down onto the bench beside his childhood hero.

"Not really, no... Why, is there something wrong with Trixie?" The man let out a deep, discontented sigh.

Letting out a muffled yawn the hero responded, "I wish I knew." Ziggy merely soaked in the oddity of the whole scene. Sportacus never yawned, and what was this about Trixie?

_Trixie... _

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"Hey, move it, will you?" The black-haired teen yelled, pushing a random boy out of her path as she tightened her grip on the skateboard in her free hand. Her red converses pressed hard into the dirt as she walked, and caused others to be more hesitant in responding to her outburst. Trixie's scowl seemed extra low today, and the way her eyes seemed much more sharp -- much more critical. "Idiots." She sighed, "Fupo." _Fucking Posers. _It was only minutes later that the wheels of her board came in contact with the ramp, commanding other skaters to watch_ --learn-- _and get out of the way. One of those in the crowd was Ziggy whose #11 LT Highschool blue and white soccer jersey stood out in a crowd of darkly adorned skaters. Not to mention his undyed bright blond hair next to unnatural colors and jet-blacks.

_To say little, he was impressed by what he saw..._until an unknown fist met his face and commanded he see no more.

"Ziggy…?" A smooth, soft voice whispered to him. His head pounded, and a groan of discontentment filtered through his clasped teeth. The boy cracked open his left eye and he tried to clear up the blurry image he saw. Dark hair was the sight he was greeted with, and a hand lowering to place a cool, wet rag on the right side of his face. Ziggy slowly moving to press it down over his burning eye. His breathing settling, as his lungs relaxed and his mind cooled it's confused thoughts.

"Trixie?" The blond asked, trying to sit up and figure out where he was. His light bangs sticking to his forehead from sweat, and his freckles blurring with pink blush spread across his face from the heat. If there was any moisture at all in the air... It definately liked where it was, and thought Ziggy a wretched figure undeserving of it's presence.

"Well, looks like we've introduced ourselves." The girl said sarcastically before she nodded, "Anyway, of course. Who else did you expect it to be but Trixie - the one and only?" Ziggy smiled briefly at that as her surprisingly delicate hand pushed him back flat against her living room couch commanding him to look up at her.

"You're an amazing skateboarder. I just—I just thought you should know that." The world stopped spinning, and he saw her clearly. Man, she was a lot prettier than he remembered. Trixie's slanted eyes were bright with critical brown coloring, and her skin tan from hours sweating in the sun. She had a freckle dotted right above her glossy red lip that lingered above her pierced bottom lip. Two silver sparkling rings on either side. Trixie's smirk of acknowledgement sending shivers down his spine as the image of beauty was shattered by the memory of the taunting she'd put him through when he was younger. Yet..."Who **punched** me?"

"Some jerk. I got him back _real good_, so don't worry." She chuckled mischievously. "It's been a long time. I didn't expect to ever talk to you again." The words that seemed appropriate for a sad tune were said in a calm one. It wasn't surprising to him, though. Not for _her_. She never liked admitting her feelings – only rage and happiness.

"Yeah, Its…nice though. How have you-" His tongue seemed to fail him, and his words came out slurred. He felt foolish, and stupid. Finally talking to his old friend and he couldn't sound stupider.

"Just fine." Trixie answered quickly. "You as well?"

"Yeah." Ziggy nodded, "Thanks for taking care of me. That's not usually your bag." He offered her his goofy grin, and soon after got his reward...

Trixie's laugh. It wasn't like it use to be. Harsh and cruel--No, no, It was like..._A new beginning. _

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* * *

"Pixel?" Stephanie giggled, rushing into the boy's arms. Her pink hair pressing into his chest, as she held him close. "I've missed you!" The poor boy barely knew what to do, as his arms sat dead at his sides. The girl's head moving, and her sparkling brown eyes gazed up at him like...like...diamonds. "You've grown!" Pixel blushed, as a nervous hand lifted to mess with the black goggles resting in his head of orange dreads. It was a stupid thought, but one he couldn't help thinking: She must be talking about my weight... She must notice it.

"T-Thanks, S..Stephanie. You've grown alot too. You're..." God, Pixel, tell her she's pretty! The boy's tongue stuck to the bottom of his mouth, and his breathing became irratic. Especially as she giggled, pulling away from him. Pixel's hand twitching in the supressed desire to grab her, and keep her close.

"Wow, this is **SO** lucky!" Stephanie danced in a small circle around him, hands tied behind her back, as she observed him. Hopping, bobbing on the soles of her pink converse sneakers... The girl's small, athletic frame allowing only her hair to move along with her. "I was _JUST_ thinking about you!" _Me! _Stephanie finally stopped her moving, doing a spin before grinning infront of him where she leaned with her hands resting on her knees. "We should hang out, and talk." Pixel merely stood there, completely solid and shy. The girl laughed, grabbing his hand in her own. The light skin mixing with his dark, and she tugged him along with her. "C'mon, now...Least you can do for an old friend, right?"

"Right." Pixel nodded, pushing forward to keep up with his friend. They sat down on a bench in the park where Stephanie looked straight at him, and Pixel avoided her eyes by looking down at his shoes.

"So," Stephanie started, her voice calming his nervousness some (_but not all_). "How have you been? Anything new..._exciting_...happening?"

Pixel looked to her finally, "Well... let's see... Chess club, inventors club, debate club, gaming conventions, senior year..." Stephanie looked lost at some of it, but offered him an encouraging look of interest.

"I'm half surprized you don't own half of a **huge** multi-million gaming company by now." Pixel lightened up, and laughed at that.

"You know?" Pixel started, grinning over at her. "I'm kind of surprized too." Steph took his shoulder, gazing at him with those eyes as she seemed completely focused on him. Pixel wiggled under the nervousness he felt as his face grew hot under the attention. "What is it?"

"Me. _And you_." The boy's face turned rapidly to face hers in anticipation of her words.

"Me and you..._what_?"

"Should get the fabulous five back together! The old gang. Want to, how about it?--Maybe a party! Yeah, a party! How about it?" Her pink lips pouted. "For me? _Puh-lease_?" Pixel caved, and gave her a nod even though his insides churned. This was _NOT_ going to end up well. **Not at all**!


	3. Invitations & Inventions

Stingy sighed as he walked to _his_ mailbox at the end of the street. Seeing as his family was extremely wealthy, they had the privilege of owning a gold-colored gate which wrapped around the land to protect it from burglers. He opened the gate which creeked as the skinny-framed boy slid out. It was a silly thing really, but he couldn't help being nervous that someone might be up to see him in his gold pajamas and black robe. In one pale hand was his morning orange juice which he nervously sipped as his eyes darted looking for people. _Why am I always this self-concious? _He couldn't help wondering. _This is-- _He was cut short by the sound of a car coming down the street. Stingy quickly ducked, hiding behind his sterdy mailbox surrounded by tall bushes. _This is getting ridiculous._

_  
_When he went to get up though, Stingy made the embarressing discovery that his gold pajama bottoms had become attached to a few thorns sticking out from the bushes. Yanking on his pant leg to get it loose with his unoccupied hand merely created a big tear while the jerking spilled some of his orange juice on his shirt. Gasping in horror, he stiffled a sob... "These were my favorite pj's!" In his frustration, he quickly grabbed the mail before going to make a run for it to the house. He set the mail on the table, before jolting up the stairs in a blind panic. Stingy wouldn't come back downstairs until he was completely scrubbed clean, and emerged to search through his closet. Everything was insanely meticulous. Every type of clothing was with it's own kind - cut offs, t-shirts, long-sleeves, hoodies, shorts, and then pants. Not only that, but every piece of clothing in it's collective branch went from lightest to darkest colors going from left to right. It seemed he'd also ironed every single article before placing it into his closet.

After picking out his clothes, he got dressed in his regular white dress shirt, brown slacks, dark brown belt, and black dress shoes. After combing his hair until it was picture-perfect in the mirror the poor boy finally went downstairs to collect the mail that he'd stacked on the table. He put the junk in one pile, the bills in anouther, and ... then there was this odd little yellow enevelope. Stingy opened it carefully, and delicately as not to rip it in any way. "Dear Stingy, you are invited to attend a Future Business Owners of Amercia (FBOA) meeting on this saturday..." The lean boy read as he sat down in a chair near the table. He skimmed the rest, "Respectfully, S.M." He looked upwards in thought. "Who could S.M. be?"

* * *

* * *

* * *

Trixie and Ziggy recieved their own invitations in the mail. Trixie's envelope was red while Ziggy's was sky-blue with different reasons to attend. Pixel didn't recieve an envelope at all, because of the fact he was invited by the pink-haired princess in the flesh. The fact was it was more like a job offer with how she pouted and begged him to help her decorate the gymnasium she'd been given permission to borrow for the upcoming saturday night. How could he refuse, though? Those brown eyes, and that smile were a combination for submission. When asked, he responded with "I guess I could come up with something." He wasn't lying, either.

"Wow, Pix!" Stephanie awed, as she looked at the large screen that took up an entire wall space.  
"Ha!" He said proudly, grinning. "You don't even know what it does yet!" Stephanie turned her attention to the boy who stood with his arms crossed.  
"Show me?" Stephanie said hopefully, and Pixel couldn't help but blush at all the things that he COULD show Stephanie. He coughed.  
"Right. Ok. Goodmorning Suplee!" Stephanie was about to ask him who Suplee was when a girl appeared on the screen.

The girl who stood there was so amazing realistic looking that Stephanie could hardly believe that it was just a digital image. The figure seemed disoriented at first until it's light green eyes glanced over and connected with her's. It was almost as if it could see the shock on her face, and wished to calm the girl's amazement. Stephanie was memorized by the enchantingly beautiful smile placed on the mixed skin tone which played off of long, curly purple hair that fell down the program's lean back. "Suplee?" Stephanie whispered, and the girl nodded in responce making her hair bob a bit with the movement. Suplee wore a very basic form-fitting black suit along with lace-up black boots. Stephanie blushed as she thought of who else might wear boots like those, but shook off the thought. It was wrong to think that way.

"Stephanie, what do you think of Suplee?" The african american boy asked with a hand extended towards the screen. Stephanie looked up from her clenched hands to the screen again, and was met once again with the image. Except, this time, she saw someone else in her place. A person she considered much more beautiful, and alluring, then the program. Yet, so different...that Stephanie felt ashamed the girl brought on the thoughts at all. The pink haired girl smiled anyway, and pulled apart her hands from one anouther.

"She is..._Suplee_, you are beautiful."

The girl giggled, "Thank you. You are very kind. Pixel has said many kind things of you, Stephanie. I am excited to be at your service. Now, what would you desire of me for the upcoming event?" They talked of music, and the people invited. It wasn't long before Stephanie seemed to forget she was talking to an artifical-intelligence program, because she spoke to her much more like a friend. Pixel, however, busied himself with other things. It was when a different topic came up that Pixel seemed to become interested once again. His eyes drifting over to the pink princess sitting infront of the screen, and the purple-haired program responding to her.

"It must be great to be alive! So many amazing, cute boys to choose from!" Stephanie suddenly looked sick, because she became increasingly pale. "Are you feeling alright?"  
Stephanie managed a smile, and a nod. "Oh yes, I'm fine. Just tired I think..." She rose to her feet. "I think everything you came up with will be great for Saturday, Suplee..."

Suplee looked concerned, but nodded anyway. "Yes, until then, I guess."  
Pixel rushed over, "Everything ok?"  
"I'm just tired. I'll talk to you later on. Thanks for all your help." Stephanie hurried out of the gymnasium.

* * *

* * *

* * *

"Did you say something to upset her?" Stephanie could hear Pixel asking, and she took a deep breath.

The night air was considerably cooler than earlier, so Stephanie wrapped her arms around herself. Her head was racing. Why did she respond that way? Why did she think of -that- person in -that- way? "This is so messed up." Stephanie sighed again, as she looked up towards the lingering moon above her head. Even those words reminded her of the person she hated thinking of... no-no... she didn't hate it. "But under the circumstances. It's wrong. So wrong." Stephanie smiled, "Saturday'll change everything. Then I can be normal again." Normal. Perfect. How her uncle and the town want her to be. "It's just one of those things that wears off. Once I see..." She refused to say the person's name. "_Them_. Yeah, once I see_ them _this whole thing'll blow over."

Stephanie looked over, because suddenly she'd stopped walking. It was ...that person's... home. "**UGH**!" Stephanie cried, tears filling her eyes. "I **can't**!_ I can't_!" She ran off quickly, sobbing as she feriously tried to wipe her eyes. The girl being too fixated upon her own moral delimma to notice that she'd been seen.

"I wonder what is bothering Stephanie?" Sportacus asked himself as he looked over at Trixie's trailer in curiousity.


	4. No Place Like Home, Prt 1

Sportacus let his thoughts trail off from Stephanie to Trixie. She had been crying a few nights ago, and he'd been concerned. He sent Ziggy to go find out what had been the matter, but he'd responded that everything seemed okay with Trixie. The biggest thing that bothered Sportacus was the fact that Ziggy had returned with a black eye, but learning that he'd been knocked out immediately after explained a few things. Unless the person in trouble was sending off signals of alarm by being afraid then his crystal wouldn't respond to inform him of the danger. It was why Sportacus was overly concerned for Trixie. She was always the type of girl he knew would take the abuse, because of her own pride. _Wait_--did he truly believe that Trixie was being abused? The thought had come so naturally. "Well, I never met her parents." Sportacus said innocently, before nodding, and heading in the direction of her trailor.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Blood seaped from the corner of Trixie's mouth as she writhed on the ground underneath her father. Even though pain consumed her body, Trixie didn't say anything. Not even a cry came from the girl's parted lips as she gazed into his black eyes above her. Trixie's own brown ones were glazed with an emotion the man enjoyed seeing on his daughter's face. It was a complete lack of hope. The man's firm hands were clenched around her fragile wrists, "You cut yourself?" He asked her, spit flying from his lips onto her face. Trixie merely winced. "You want to die, don't you? Weakling! I'm ashamed to call you my own! Pitiful." He released one of his hands from her, only to smack her across the face. Trixie jerked under him. "If you were to die then who would I-"

The door rung. Trixie managed to smile, because her hope had returned. Her father grunted, as he got off of her. Trixie rolling onto her side, coughing up the blood from her mouth as one of her hands wrapped around her bleeding wrist. The man stood, looking towards his wife who sat passively on the couch reading a magazine. "Well, are you going to answer that or do I have to remind you who's the man of the house?" Trixie couldn't help but chuckle inbetween hoarse breaths. It's not even a house. It's a trailor. The asian woman got up without a glance, and went to answer the door. Trixie and the older man were in the corner that couldn't be seen from the doorway. Except that, he too abandoned her to wash his hands of her blood and busy himself with something more 'important'.

"Hello, I'm Sportacus. I was wondering if Trixie was home?" The cheery man declared, only to have his smile drop at the woman's unresponsive attitude. The inside interior told of days of starvation, poverty, and pain. The stains on the beige carpeting being a dark color that made Sportacus' stomach churn. The lighting being dim and setting an odd, uncomfortable atmosphere. It all seemed to make sense when the man looked at Trixie's '_mother_' whose pale skin, shrunken eyes, and unkept hair told of an unspoken depression. Her thin body seeming fragile and breakable with the way her collarbone stuck out further than neccessary. Her skin seemingly hanging from a slumping skeleton whose dull colored moth-invaded clothing covered most other intruding bones.

Trixie's eyes went wide as she heard who it was, and she struggled to get up from the floor to greet him. The girl pushing against the corner wall with a quiet protest from her aching body who never-the-less was lifted to it's feet. She pulled her wristbands from her pocket where she'd stashed them previously, and put them on to cover the scars. Then hurriedly wiped her mouth, and rushed to the door. She moved the older woman gently out of the way, but looked strained. Sportacus couldn't help but see the agony in this entire place, and despite his heroics... he wanted desperately to flee.

"H-hey, Sportacus. What are you doing here?" Trixie forced a smile as her mom simply walked from the doorway back to the couch. The girl's eyes darting two and fro nervously, before settling on leaving the house. She closed the door behind her.

Sportacus blinked from his previous solidity, "Trixie-"  
Trixie forced a smile, and grabbed his arm with only a tiny bit of a wince before dragging him from the steps towards the park. Once in the lead, her smile dropped into a shockingly honest grimance.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Ziggy rolled around in his bed, unable to get to sleep. He took a deep, gasping breath as he clung to his pillow. Sweat poured down from his forehead, as his eyes peered into the thick black darkness. His blond hair clinging to his sweat, as he pulled the sheets off in order to rise to his feet. His water-bed jiggling with the motion, and he briefly smiled at that before heading quietly towards his bedroom door. A cool hand grabbing the gold knob as his hand twisted and pulled it open. Ziggy walked as quietly down the hall as possible with his feet touching the cold tile. If he didn't know any better... The night could have been a cloud which landed to cover everyone in the unbearable blackness. Ziggy couldn't even see his hand infront of his face. That was... until the darkness and the quiet stillness evaporated as quickly as it had come. His mother's door was cracked open which spilled light into the hall. Out of it came two voices - one he could recognize as his mom's and anouther male voice that he didn't. They weren't speaking.

He closed his eyes as he rested a hand against the wall to keep himself on his feet. _Anouther customer_... It was what kept the roof over their heads. Ziggy couldn't help having mixed feelings. He felt like rushing into the room and telling the man to get the hell out. But...It sounded like they were almost done anyway. Ziggy walked the rest of the way down the hall until he reached the kitchen. He was thirsty, and apple juice didn't sound so bad. After pouring himself a cool glass, Ziggy seated himself at the table and tried to block out the sounds of a happy customer. He hated the fact that his mother could be considered a product. What did that make him? A sip of his glass settled his thoughts, and the sounds disappeared. The teenager could image clothes being put back where they belong, and money being given. One amount before, and one after, was usually what everyone settled for.

The hallway light flicked on, and drifted into the kitchen where he sat. A red-headed man stopped briefly in the kitchen doorway, and Ziggy looked over at him. It was a look none of Ziggy's friends would have ever believed the young man was capable of. Stern, serious, and threatening all bottled up in the most passive of glances. The unwelcome man cleared his throat, and turned to the woman. "I know my way out." Before his footsteps could be heard decending, the opened front door, the shuffling of keys, the closing of the door, and the roar of a car engine which sent the man on a road back where he belonged. Not here.

The messy blond haired woman looked towards her son, who immediately turned his gaze back ahead of him. Her arms were wrapped around her body, as if to insure that her robe kept her covered. "Zachary, what are you doing up at this hour?" Her voice was low as if she were ashamed, and not capable of acting on the role of parent at the moment. Ziggy finished his glass before placing it back down with a small bang of contact between the plastic and wood of the table.

"How much?" He asked quietly, yet with a tone that couldn't be questioned with. The woman opened her mouth to answer. The boy finally looked to her as he stood. "Actually, it doesn't even matter." Ziggy pushed a hand through his blond hair. "I'm going to find a woman one day...to love...who doesn't subject herself to things like this. I'm going to bed." He pushed past her and down the hall where every one of his footsteps could be heard.


	5. No Place Like Home, Prt 2

**No Place Like Home  
**_Part Two_

Stephanie sat up in her bed as her pink night-light's glow scattered over her face. Her glazed brown eyes widening as the light was reflected in them. The girl was slightly slumped over, with her hands violently clenching her pink bed sheets. Half-awake - She struggled to end her nightmare which had traveled with her into reality. It fought against her wishes, and remained in her head. Flashing imagery captivating her further into the past that haunted her dreams.

_It was a night that would change her life forever._

Stephanie was gazing out the car window at how beautiful the streetlights looked against the darkness. She was returning home after the end of her first summer in Lazy Town. She could recall the sweet smell of lavender in her mother's curly blond hair when she hugged her for the first time in three months. Stephanie could also recall the firm feeling of her father's arms around her. It was a feeling that couldn't be replicated by any other individual. It was that protection and care masked with masculinity. Despite all of this, Steph wanted to stay in Lazy Town. Permanently. It wasn't that she didn't miss her family, because she did. It was the city which intimindated her. She didn't want to fight with her parents, but she desperately didn't want to go back there. She couldn't make friends there! Stephanie was constantly being made fun of, and she hated it. It came to a crash at the end of the school year when one of the popular girls decided to be her friend. Stephanie, being good natured, took her willingly as her best friend and shared with her all of her secrets. Later, at school, she discovered that the girl used what she'd heard against her. The feeling of betrayal was one that clung to her years later.

"Mom, Dad...I know you want me in the city, but can't I stay in LT? It's where my friends are." Her mother turned around in her seat, with her curly hair sliding from her shoulder to face Stephanie. The lavender smell faintly touched Stephanie's nose, and caused a brief smile to cross the eight year old's face. Realizing she was smiling, Stephanie crossed her arms and scowled. She was stubborn like most other children, and her perfect qualities were blurred infront of family. The woman unbuckled her seat belt briefly in order to reach over, and pat her daughter on the head.

"Now, Dear, You know-" Stephanie's eyes widened, gasping, and the woman turned around to see what the commotion was. The car went to a screetching stop, and Stephanie's mother was flung forwards. Steph jumped, trying to grab her hand, but was held back by her seat restraint. The girl screamed, clamping her eyes shut at the first hint of blood and broken glass. Her heart was the only thing she could hear as it pounded against her chest. Everything else was a deafening silence.

_The entire world went dark.  
_  
When she woke upthe first thing she heard was sirens. It was a repeating sound that grinded into her pounding skull, and she struggled to block out the sound by clamping her hands against her ears. Even though muffled, the sound still burried itself into her head. Along with the sirens, there were rapidly flashing multi-colored lights which danced ontop of the roofs of many surround cop cars. Stephanie thought it was amazingingly beautiful how the lights intermingled with the looming stars. However, when she looked up, a concerned face reminded her that not everything was okay. It reminded her that cop cars, and sirens weren't a good sign. Deep in her soul, she felt the first sign of panic and realization.

Her uncle was looking at her, blocking her view of the accident. Distracted from the pounding in her head - She wondered how he got here all the way from Lazy Town. However, his deep red eyes and tear-stained cheeks brought the young girl back into the present. "Hi Uncle." Stephanie said softly, weakly, as she forced a smile for him. She dropped her pale hands from her ears, and brushed a damp lock of dyed pink hair from her forehead which was stained with sweat and blood. "Mom and Dad-" She was quickly cut off by the shaking of his head, and a very heavy feeling overcame her. "Oh..."

"You're going to be staying with me for now, okay?" Stephanie nodded, as she tried to suck in her tears as the truth hit her hard and fast. Her confused emotions bringing through very clear and strong ones: shock, guilt, and a horrible breaking in her heart._Thetears came_. She clung to her Uncle's dull suit, the wetness of her tears staining it, and each of her struggled gasps cracked the older man's heart more and more. Not only had he had to witness the gruesome body of his dead sister, but also her husband, who had been a fine, fine man in Mayor Meanwell's regards. Now, he also had to deal with his niece's sadness. The older man felt truly lost in her wimpering, and held her as her tiny body shook.

Stephanie felt overwhelmingly guilty. She got what she wanted. She got to stay in Lazy Town, but at the expense of her parents. Stephanie's beautiful mother who smelled of lavender, and Stephanie's caring father whose embrace carried a feeling of protection. She'd never get that again._ "This is all my fault."_

* * *

* * *

* * *

Stingy sat at home on his sofa. He was gazing at the door with such a patient intentness. It was a skill he had honed over the years of practicing professional business-like behavior. It was around the time he expected his father to come home from working in the city. He visualized the tall, cold, skyscraper whose reflecting windows captured the outside world, distorted it, and captured it forever inside of the outer walls. His father worked there. Stingy thought of the suit-wearing people going in and out of that looming building, and wondered if they ever felt small in comparison. As small as he felt when he looked up at the building whose emmense height seemed to allow it to touch the clouds.

The daydreams continued at a surprizing rate: Stingy curiously thought what the building would say if it could speak. Were the clouds cold to the touch? -And were the clouds actually puffy-white gatherings of purified smoke? He thought of what it would be like for the business-man on the very top level. Was he ever frightened looking out his window? Did the clouds block his view of the city below? He had asked his father, but the man simply shook his head. Stingy didn't even think he heard him, because he continued on with his conversation carried from lips to lips and interpreted by a cellular device inbetween. Stingy couldn't help thinking that it was odd... Stingy knew it was a ridiculous, but he couldn't help himself. It kept his mind off the disappointment to come when his father didn't step through that door, and the passing hours made this fact-of-life weigh heavier on the teenager's spirit.

It was getting late. 1:00AM. Stingy was getting tired, and quickly loosing hope. He slumped over onto his side, and dared to close his eyes. A grim thought entered his mind: His father was probably busy with someone else. It wasn't that he was ignorant to his father and his mother's relationships it was that he was too disgusted by it to want to remember it. His mother used her sexuality to advance in her career, and his father did it to release stress. Atleast, that's what he guessed... or maybe they just did it to forget about one anouther. To spite one anouther. They were too busy with their sexual endeavors, fame, and business life to worry about Stingy. A child that represented the short amount of time they actually use to love one anouther. He'd been left alone ever since he was three, but if you ever asked his parents they would laugh it off.

"Steward can fend for himself, can't he? Besides, he has the nanny if he needs anything."_ 'The Nanny' _was a general term for whoever had undertaken the job after anouther one fired from the position. They no longer had names, lives, or families. They were hired staff who weren't people. Stingy regarded them as such, and didn't become close to them. He didn't want a new mother or father in_ 'hired staff'... _Therefore, he grew up pretty much alone until no one else came to fulfill the position. Stingy couldn't recall how many times he'd seen things in that big, empty, house.

How many times had he heard things that weren't heard by anybody? else. How many times had he caught himself talking to himself...? He couldn't go crazy. _He couldn't_! Stingy could deal with lonelyness. He was already crazy enough. What other teenage boy wasn't hanging out with friends, rebelling against society, and... was disgusted with sex? Seeing his mother and father's manipulation of the act that was suppose to symbolize something deeper made him lack any interest in it at all. He'd tried the porn thing, too, in his paranoid state. Unfortunately, Stingy spent the night wretching in the bathroom in disgust. The ghost parents of his controlled him ... even as far away as they were.

Stingy wondered if they even knew he was alive. It was his last thought before falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.


	6. Something Different

**Friday.**

Sportacus watched Trixie as she slept. It was way past 8:08PM, but lately he hadn't been able to sleep. It wasn't something he could ever explain, nor was it something he'd ever want to, but looking as the rebellious raven-haired teenager as she slept so peacefully set his very soul at ease. It was a feeling he hadn't had since all the LT kids were young, and it made him smile briefly until his gaze traveled to the girl's left wrist.

_He'd seen a tiny streak of red defy Trixie's wish for invisibility peer out from under her left wristband when they were talking...well, arguing...mostly on her part...and immediately forced the girl to get into his airship. The man wasn't really the type to 'force' anyone into anything unless it meant they were in danger or in need of care. It seemed to be one of those situations to Sportacus. Not only did her family give all the signs of being abusive and neglectful - Self harm was usually a sign of emotional distress. Trixie needed someone, and a safe place to stay. _

_Sportacus was the person who could be there for her, and he had that place. Once he showed her he was trustworthy, which was something which mildly hurt and disappointed Sportacus, he removed her wristband. Like a good man - He did not question the girl who suddenly seemed timid. Sportacus, instead, offered her a comforting smile before he cleaned up the cuts, disinfected them, and then bandaged her wrist. By then, Trixie was calm if not completely introverted, and asked him if he really didn't mind her staying. Of course, that needs no answer. Trixie felt limp, somewhat depressed, on his bed only to be sound asleep shortly. _

It was finally midnight, and despite the aging man's usually nonchalant enthusiasm - tonight seemed to carry a slowness to it. He embraced the feel of the day: His body felt slow, while his mind felt as though it were on overdrive. Sportacus, settling himself flat on his back on the cool white flooring of the airship, decided that one thing was for certain. He wanted to make sure Trixie never did those things again, and he wanted to desperately take care of her. Why? Well- "Because it's my job." Sportacus whispered out loud, and smiled over towards the sleeping asian. Moments later he too was asleep, suddenly feeling determined to make the most of tommorrow.

* * *

**Saturday.**

Steph spent hours infront of her lengthy mirror. She brushed smooth fingers through silky light pink hair whose bangs had a streak of black over her left eye. "I don't know why I'm doing this." Steph said in a tone of amusement and - equally, desperation. She was dressed in a way she hoped impressed Trixie. It was a way that she didn't usually dress. It wasn't clean-cut - '_normal_'. Stephaniewas equipped with many things she saw Trixie wear, or heard her compliment: black fingerless gloves, black googles in her hair, striped black&white tights, ultra force G.I. style black combat boots, a short pink plaid skirt with crisscrossing adjustable straps in the back, and a black thin-ribbed tank featuring a front screen ornamental skull with a gothic Myth brand logo on the forehead and bottom left side of the tank.

Stephanie had put on some mascara which brought out her brown eyes, and dabbed her lips with glittery pink lipgloss. On the top of her eyes was a thin line of pink. She spun around twice in the mirror, watching as her skirt spun with her revealing beautifully shaped thighs covered by the thin stripped material. Steph smiled, as she pulled on a collection of her black, pink, and white plastic bracelets. She then put in her earrings which were small, with black x's over pink hearts. "Alright." Steph said to her reflection. "I think you look...very..." She seemed lost.

"Stephanie!" A cheery male voice called, before opening her door. What he saw made him stop, mouth dropped, in the doorway. "_My_, Stephanie." The seventeen year old girl blushed, hugging her Uncle. She didn't want to decide if his responce was a good, or a bad one. She just hugged him.

"I'm going out now, Uncle." He nodded dumbly, and she rushed past him.

"Be good, Stephanie!"

"I will, Uncle Milford!" The giggly teenage voice called back to him from down the hall.


	7. What You Know About Me

The night air wrapped around the two individuals who were walking. The seventeen year old girl was slightly infront, walking quickly. The twenty-nine year old man walked a close distance behind her; with well paced and even steps. The girl came to a sudden stop. She swung around, pushing hard against his chest. She wasn't able to make him budge, even a little, and simply looked at her with a confused expression under the streetlights that guided them towards their destination.

Trixie let out a frustrated groan, feeling vulnerable and weak infront of him. "I can walk without you watching over me!" The words echoed and lingered making the tips of their ears twitch. The girl's eyes narrowed, and the man's widened in surprize. The pure look of innocence on his older face touched with offense guilt wash over her, but she wouldn't give into it. She was a self-centered girl, and she knew it. Trixie knew, in her deepest corners, that she was attacking someone who hadn't ever harmed her. But, she had to fight someone... She had to fight someone to get this feeling off her chest. The feeling that dragged her down. She wanted _revenge_.

"I-I'm sorry, Trixie." She turned her back on him.

"Do you still think it's okay to play this childish little part of 'Sportacus'?" She looked over her shoulder, her long black hair toppling from where it previously lay, her piercing brown eyes connecting with his blue eyes strongly. "Your real name. The one on your birth certificate. What is it?" The words were so intiminating from a girl in her position. They were spoken with wrath, with dictation, with the knowledge that she could abuse him and get away with it. The knowledge that behind his strong exterior _he was nothing but weakness._ Trixie couldn't stand weakness. Most of all, she couldn't stand people who knew that secretly she was also **nothing** but _weakness._

"Alex." He said quietly, standing very stiff and rigid. His blue eyes downcast towards the ground. Trixie turned to face him again, looking at him with surprise on her once angry facial features. She didn't expect him to actually respond to her unjustified questioning. Sportacus opened his mouth to speak, but Trixie put her index finger over his lips. Trixie had asked for it, but suddenly, every part of her was shivering with the information she shouldn't have known. A single name, not even entirely completed, was plaguing every fragment of her mind.

"I don't want to see you **ever** again." She uttered, letting the words die once they passed her lips. Monotone and flat, without a trace of emotion, they still managed to be bitter.With that she pulled away, and rushed off into the night leaving Sportacus in a stupor of hurt, confused emotions. He could hear, _oh so perfectly_, every single time her sneaker hit the pavement. She was running _away_ from him, not _towards_ him, as she use to in her youth. Sportacus wasn't sure what he'd done wrong, but he must have done something horrible. The energetic ex-hero suddenly found himself mourning, and short changed. He felt guilty. His quest to help someone he considered his friend, had ended in disaster. _It hurt so much to be hated._

* * *

* * *

* * *

Ziggy smiled from where he sat, looking at his friends as they spoke to one anouther. Stingy, in his black blazer, pants, and tie, talking to Pixel, in his purple_ '2006 Gal City Gaming Convention'_ t-shirt, baggy jeans, and sneakers. Ziggy was spinning a clear plastic cup in his hands, the apple juice inside absently swishing back and forth as he observed. He looked over when he heard someone pull out a chair beside him, which was quickly seated with the petite figure of Stephanie Meanswell. "You look like you're waiting for someone." She spoke, a knowing smile on her glittering pink lips.

Ziggy looked at her, with his blond hair curved to hide his black eye. The freckles dotting his cheeks seemed to be misplaced in the years that showed, with the thought swirling in his blue eye; revealed contemplation. "I guess I am." He replied, a smile sliding onto his face. "I thought that Trixie would be here, that's all." The girl let her fake smile drop, and she slumped, with her cheek in her hand. Her lips puffed out, she muttered -

"Yea, that's who I'm waiting for too." Steph suddenly perked up again, looking at him intently, with her face close to his. Her brown eyes wide with intrigue. "I heard you hung out with her recently?" He backed his head away a bit, looking kind of surprized at her.

"Not really...I mean, we barely talked. I just checked in to see if she was doing okay. Sportacus said he was worried about her." _Burning concern. _

"Sportacus? ...Why, what's wrong with Trixie?" There was a cleared throat, and the two teenagers spun in their chairs to see the faint outline of a figure in the darker corner of the gymasium. Out stepped Trixie, with her long straight black hair swaying with her motions. Her delicate fingers unthreaded themselves from the raven locks, moving fluidly to remove the cigarette perched inbetween her pouty red lips. She blew a circle of smoke, with her dark eyes looking down at the duo who were so transfixed upon her. Trixie broke a grin, bearing her white fangs, as one of her fingerless-gloved hands rested on her curvy hip. She wore a pair of tight ripped jeans that showed off fishnet stockings underneath clinging to her tanned skin, with a big hanging stud belt, checkerboard suspenders hanging down at her thighs, and her firm petite waist being outlined perfectly in a black button-up short sleeve shirt whose top buttons were undone to show off just the beginning of a lacy red bra.

"I'm not surprized that kids still gossip." Stephanie's mouth was slightly parted as she gazed upon her ex-best friend. It had been years since the asian girl had been this close to her. She was gorgeous, Stephanie thought, the only coherent thing she could piece together in her stupor. Then, she suddenly felt really embarressed and blush burned her cheeks as she looked down. She wondered why she chose to dress like this, and fumbled with the edges of her skirt. _Trixie must think I'm a stupid poser._ "Ziggy," Trixie started, patting the blond haired boy on the head. "I really like your new hair cut."

_I'd perfer it if she thought I was a stupid poser...but she doesn't even notice me!_

"Oh, thanks Trixie. My eye feels alot better now." He grinned, light blond strands of hair catching the light to turn it into a wonderful gold color. "We should-"

"Trixie..." A meek Stephanie spoke up. "I-"

Trixie either didn't hear her, or ignored her. "We should definately hang out again. You're the best cook, Z." _And they're flirting. _

* * *

Stephanie felt heartbroken, but Trixie smiled as the both Stingy and Pixel came over to greet her. Her arms were looped around Ziggy in a hug, and Stephanie looked tramatized in her seat. She smirked at the pink haired princess' displeasure. She couldn't last without all the attention being on her, could she? _How pathetic_! Stephanie probably only called this...'party'...in order to brag of her highschool accomplishments and rub it all in Trixie's face. Well, Trixie wasn't going to have any of that! **She was the star, now**.

Trixie gazed at her wrists, covered by her gloves, that were crossed behind Ziggy's neck. _Wasn't she a star_?...She was kicked out of her home, addicted to cigarettes and self-mutilation in her teenage years, on the verge of dropping out of highschool, and had just shunned the one person who sincerely looked out for her. **She was a fucking star**. The fact it was scarved deep into her wrist was only to make sure that she never forgot it. She slid away from Ziggy, giving Steph a simple, quick glimpse. The pink haired girl was looking at her entwined fingers, and not even looking at Trixie.

Figures--_She's too good to even look at me now_? Trixie quickly assumed that she invited Ziggy just to be able to claim him as her boyfriend, and boast to the world that she dated a talented soccer player who was also good at cooking. What did she expect from him? For him to cook her breakfast in bed after she gets her nasty hands all over him? Trixie would make sure that never happened, even if it took her to the deepest depths of hell. She was already going there anyway, as far as she was concerned.

She'd prove to herself, to the world, to Sportacus, and to her friends that **NO** pink haired cheerleader was better than her. Trixie smiled flirtily at Ziggy one last time, before greeting Pixel and Stingy. Pixel who looked at her with curiousity, having honestly not expected her to show up, and Stingy who looked at her studiously. As if he was trying to decide if it was legal for someone to dress the way that she did. Stephanie looked up at the group, but their words passed her ears.

**No matter what, she'd make Trixie love her!**


	8. Intrigue and Obession

The techno-pop music lingered outside of the building, and drifted towards the curb where she sat. Trixie's cigarette was a spark of light amongst the darkness that loomed around the school building, and paid tribute to the flickering dead orange of the fading streetlight. The weather called for it to be exceptionally hot in the day, and strangely chilly at night. But the girl didn't think to bring a jacket to the affair she was requested to come to in the afternoon.

Trixie didn't sit outside alone, because Ziggy was standing next to her. He looked nervously from the girl, to the light of her cigarette, to the streetlight, to his sneakers in an attempt to ease his awkward feelings. He found the asian girl to be intriguing, but mostly because she was everything that he wasn't. The silence just defined this...what was there to talk about? They didn't have much in common, did they? "So," Trixie said finally with her exhale dragging smoke into the atmosphere. "What's your dream?"

"My dream?" He paused, not sure how to answer such an unusual question. Honestly, Ziggy didn't think Trixie thought of things like that. She always seemed to be so spontaneous, free, and without consequence. He wished he was like that most days. "I guess to..."

"Be famous." Trixie said, cutting him off with a big fanged grin that made her seem even more magnetic then usual. "Isn't that what you wanna be?" Most would find this rude, but Ziggy's stunned face smoothed into a smile. He nodded. "That's what everyone wants to be...famous."

Ziggy paused. "Don't you want to be famous, Trixie? You use to say so much about how you were going to make it big as a skateboarder." He clenched his fist, and thrust it into the air. "I bet you can!" The pure enthusiasm and sincerity in his words catching the girl off guard as she looked at him with slightly wide eyes. With a smile, she closed them shut and inhaled the nicotine of her cigarette before blowing out black mist from between her pouty lips.

"That's strange...I guess my interests have changed." The boy tilted his head, with his blond hair being slightly ruffled by the breeze.

"Oh?" Her smile. His intrigue. Ziggy sat down next to her, drapping his jacket over her shoulders. The blond, freckled boy's lips perched in concern. "It's kinda cold outside. I don't want you to get sick, Trix." She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. At first, he wasn't sure what to do, but hesitantly put his arm around her shoulder. "Uh..." Ziggy swallowed as her brown eyes connected with his, with -that- smile on her face. A devil's smile, but yet... "Trixie?"

"You'll be a really good chef, someday. That is what you want to be, isn't it?" Trixie's warm hand touching his as a sign of good hope. He grinned, feeling very appreciated that she took note of it. A girl like her, who probably wouldn't care less about a guy like him. It was mind blowing, especially the fact that he had his arm around her, and her eyes were closing as she cuddled into him. Alot of people told him how horrible she was - 'a prankster, a rebel, a bitch' - but she seemed just fine to Ziggy. Ok, maybe he was a bit naive...but she definately wasn't a bad person at heart. It was also nice to be taken exclusive interest in.

"I want to be a singer." Trixie said quietly, as if it was top secret information.

Ziggy sighed. "You're so cool. A singer, skateboarder, and you're good at every sport you try..."

"You haven't even heard me sing." She laughed. "I might be bad." Ziggy shook his head adamently, as Trixie crushed her finished cigarette into the sidewalk.

"You're never bad at anything. I really wanna hear you sing!"

Trixie smiled, and took his hands in hers with eagerness. "Hey, maybe this saturday? Your place?" Ziggy froze, looking down at their joint hands. _His Place?_...Nobody ever went to his home, and this would be crossing his personal boundary of nobody ever going for fear they would realize something _incomplete_ about his household. His blue eyes rose, glancing at Trixie's dark eyes peering back at him. Her excited smile, and all of his doubt dropped into his stomach.

"M...my place, then." _Please, don't let me regret trusting you, Trixie..._ He couldn't help being torn between making the worst decision of his life, to making one of the best. Ziggy couldn't help trusting her, though. Despite all the years he'd scorned her for tormenting him as a child, or the fact that she was the school bully who could destroy your social life in one word. He trusted her, even with her devil's smile.

**Ziggy was an easy victim.**

* * *

Pixel paused, fingers pressed to his forehead in disbelief, as his pink haired friend listened to her two old friends talking outside through a device he'd created. "Stephanie, do you really think you should be-" She waved him off, pressing the ear piece in deeper as she tried to make sure she didn't miss any whispering or low voices. "This is kind of-"

"I can't believe this." Stephanie hissed under her breath, and the boy took a few steps back. This wasn't the girl he knew. She wouldn't be spying, or...'_hissing_' about anything. "This is horrible, _horrible_!" She thrust it back into his hands, darting towards the exit. Pixel stood wide-eyed and confused as he looked up to Suplee who shook her head.

"Maybe it's not a really cute guy, afterall." Was all the electronic device said, and Pixel paused...

_Trixie?_

* * *

Stephanie rammed into Trixie's back, flinging the asian girl forwards. She fell into Ziggy, wrapping her arms around him to keep her balance, and the blond looked back with a grin until he saw the panting pink hair behind his friend. "Steph?" He blinked, as Trixie straightened herself. "What's the matter?" Ziggy asked, coming to her aid. Trixie crossed her arms, and Stephanie noticed the scowl on her face. Her chest felt heavy, and suddenly she wasn't sure why she ran.

_I can't believe it. _Trixie thought. _To stoop so low to get Ziggy away from me..._

"T-Trixie, can I...talk to you? It's...important." Stephanie asked, her voice low. Ziggy stepped back, looking at the way the two girls looked at one anouther. Trixie's dark brown eyes looking with such extreme distaste that it overflowed onto her face, and Stephanie's light brown's gazing with such hope that it seemed to crumble her. One with the desire for the other to drop dead, and the other with the desire only to love. "Please?" The girl begged, prepped to drop onto her knees when Trixie sighed with a dismissive hand gesture.

"Alright." Ziggy beamed happily at that. He knew how much Steph had been looking forward to seeing Trixie. "I'll catch up with you, Z?" The boy nodded, grinning as he waved, leaving the two alone under the streetlight which finally stopped flickering and left them in darkness. "**What is it**? What do _you_ want?" The voice protraying only hatred made Stephanie shiver, holding herself.

"I-I..." Her breath seemed to leave her. "I..."

_This is pathetic._ They both thought at once, just as their eyes met, and Stephanie gathered her strength.


	9. Selling Your Soul

"Trixie, I know that we haven't ... talked in a long, long time." Stephanie swallowed, closing her eyes to block out the '_duh_' look that Trixie was giving her. "But I miss when we used to be friends. I want us to be best friends again, and I...I'd do anything if we could be!" She had such an expression of hope etched across her face that it made Trixie's stomach churn.

"_What_, are you kidding me?" Trixie burst out laughing. "So you invite everyone here, and suddenly think you're going to trick everyone into believing that you aren't full of shit? Stephanie, you're a fucking idiot. You wear your pink tutu, and flash your stupid smile then you expect yourself to suddenly have everyone around your finger?"

Stephanie's expression looked like a deflated balloon, and her eyes were watering to the brim. It wasn't the response that she had expected. Trixie managed to smirk at it, and stepped nose-to-nose infront of the shorter pink haired girl. The asian placed her hand on Stephanie's jaw, making the other look up at her, regardless. "You don't have any words to say to that?" Trixie muttered, with the oddest expression of satisfaction on her face.

"T-Trixie, I-I don't understand why you have to be so mean. I-I just..." Trixie held her chin tight enough to leave bruises and her fingerprints in the aftermath.

"Really? I thought it was kind of easy to figure out." Their brown eyes met. "You disgust me." Trixie dropped Steph's jaw, and put a cigarette between her lips before walking off.

Stephanie was too weak to hold herself up without Trixie's help, and collapsed onto her knees. She was trying hard to stiffle her sobs. "Trixie, w-wait...I-I'll..." Her voice faded, and once Trixie had thought she'd heard the last of the pink haired princess, she screamed. "If you leave me again, I'll-I'll...I'll..." She buried her face under her arms. "I need you." Steph muttered into her legs.

Trixie's boots sounded on the ground, and she kneeled infront of Stephanie. "Fine. How about we make a deal then? _HEY,_ look at me when I'm talking to you!" Steph peeked out from her arms to look at the fiery eyed teen. "If you want to be my best friend, then you'll have to do something for me to prove you're worthy." Trixie brushed a hand through her pink hair, before kissing her.

Biting down on the princess' lower lip, and embedding her teeth marks.  
Stephanie's very first kiss... was Trixie's.


	10. Betting with the Red Bow

Stephanie shivered as she sat in bed, with her legs to her chest, and her arms trying to keep them from shaking. She couldn't believe what had happened with Trixie. Her jaw hurt when she moved it, and her bottom lip had finally stopped bleeding. With all her daydreaming about being kissed by Trixie - She hadn't ever imagined that it would taste so much like... nostalgia.

"Stephanie?" Her uncle called, knocking on the door. "Can I come in?"  
"J-just one minute, Uncle!" She dove under the sheets, pulling them up to her nose. "Come in!" Stephanie could hear her heartbeat hard against her chest. What would she say to explain if he saw the black and blue? She still shaking slightly under the sheets, being significantly terrified from what Trixie had told her earlier. What Trixie had done earlier. But no matter how much she ran through how wrong it was in her head... She knew she'd end up giving in to Trixie. She had no one else she'd rather suffer for.

And that **terrified **her. "Steph," Milford said. "Are you okay? You didn't talk at all when you came home." He sat down on the end of her bed. "Do you need to talk about something?" Usually, she would cheerfully tell her Uncle that things had went well. However, this time, she came home only to rush off into the shower. It was the same thing she did when they came home from the car accident. Stephanie pulled the sheets closer, and forced a giggle into her throat.

"Oh, I'm fine, Uncle Milford. I'm just really, really tired."  
A concerned expression spread on his face. "What did you do that was so tiring?" Stephanie blushed, covering her mouth. He couldn't possibly be assuming that...  
"Oh! Uncle! I danced, that's all!" She clutched her jaw, huddled up in the sheets, with her back towards him. More tears were forming in her eyes.

Her uncle rose. "Okay." Milford brushed a hand through her hair, just barely missing seeing the prominant bruises on her jawline. "I'll see you in the morning."

A tear dripped.  
"Yes, Uncle Milford. Goodnight."

**

* * *

Saturday.**

* * *

Ziggy pulled out a seat next to Stingy in the library. The brown-haired boy was dealing cards to two other boys who were seated infront of him. He had shockingly quick gambling hands, and a face of surprizing confidence. The face of someone who would bankrupt you with a smile. Ziggy suddenly felt a bit uneasy. This wasn't the Stingy that he had mingled with the night before. This was a boy who adjusted his red bow tie _like a man_. While he was waiting for an opening, or recognition, Ziggy caught the gaze of Pixel who was also by his side. An expression of confusion and curiousity. "Hello, Ziggy." The voice of the rich boy said, floating high above the commoners. "To what do I owe this kindly visit?" 

"I need your-"

"What are your bets, Gentlemen?" Stingy interrupted, speaking to his players.  
"One thousand." The boy replied, causing Ziggy to sink low in his seat with an expression of shock on his face.  
"Will that be in cash or credit?"

Ziggy leaned back in his seat, poking Pixel, and mouthing 'What are you doing here?'  
Pixel rubbed a hand past his googles and through his orange dreads. 'Stephanie.'  
"Oh." Ziggy smirked. "Still?" Pixel grunted, and leaned back forwards. The two 'common-folk' watching as Stingy massacred the two boys' in their false bet, and thousands of dollars were exchanged in tight packaging. Who the hell did this in a library? Shouldn't Stingy be scoping stocks or studying for his high-class private school studies? Apparantly not.

"Let's make a bet." Stingy said to Pixel and Ziggy once the players had left the table.  
"NO!" They shouted, causing the librarian to violently shush them across the room.

A bemused smile crossed his face. "No, a bet more... your style... you're coming, specifically, about Stephanie and Trixie aren't you?" The two boys nodded. "About what the chances are that they'll be interested in you? Then, why not make a game of it? I'll bet money that neither one is interested in you two. What are the prices?"

Ziggy looked perhaps even offended, while Pixel muttered "Figures" under his breath. "I'll put fifty dollars on each household name. If you prove to me that the chosen girl is your girlfriend in a month, then you'll get the money. If not, I will name my price in possession versus dollar value. Got it? Go." He set down his cards. "I have to study."

The two boys walked out together.  
"I came for advice from the ruler of good and bad bets, and I leave with that." Pixel complained.

"Hey, it might be fun! I could use that fifty dollars to take Trixie out somewhere nice, you know?" Ziggy giggled optimistically. He couldn't help himself from thinking the most of it. He truly believed in the ultimate goodness of his black-haired asian friend.

"Dude, when did you even start -liking- Trixie? She's ... completely left wing from you." Pixel sneered.  
Ziggy glared. "Like Steph's not for you? Look, don't talk about Trixie. She's way cool."  
"Since WHEN did you start even noticing she was alive anymore?"  
..."Look, a while, okay? Jeez." Ziggy marched off.

Trixie smirked beside the library, smoking her cigarette. A bet, huh?... Hm.

She withdrew the cigarette, licking her lips.

This would be fun.


	11. Peaceful Quiet

Trixie sat on Ziggy's couch beside him. It was particularly freezing that afternoon, so they were sharing three heavy blankets with eachother. In an awkwardly yet comfortable position, they were half-cuddling. It was only awkward, because they both wanted to close the gap between. However, neither knew how the other would react to such a gesture of farmiliarity.

Ziggy couldn't even remember what they were watching, but he could tell you that Trixie's hair smelt like lavender. He could tell you that her lip ring had small japanese kanji carved on it, and that her eyes were not chocolate brown like he originally thought. They were more of a cocoa color. He could say with confidence, that Trixie also had very faint freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. That her tongue was sharp at the tip, like a lizard, and red-pink like the RoseArt marker he used as a highlighter at school. But he couldn't tell you what they were watching.

There was the faint sound of steady breath coming from her parted lips. That was when Ziggy realised that his guest had fallen asleep. He smiled, knowing that it was an honor to be trusted so readily by Trixie... She'd put her guard down for him. Enough to sleep. To be vulnerable. He was flattered. Ziggy removed the blankets, and picked her up. He'd prepared himself for a fair amount of weight - after all, Trixie had to have something behind those delicious curves that wrapped her body in it's sensual and sexual allure.

He was greeted with a limpness that was so lightweight it shocked him. She was so light! As if she were just a child! Ziggy hadn't even noticed how her skin was a few shades lighter, or how she didn't seem to have that much stamina. He felt like a fraud. A horrible friend. Trixie had obviously not been eating much in the past few days, and... now that he thought about it...

Had she gone home at all since Saturday's party, or did she just spent Saturday night in the cold? The question made Ziggy's stomach churn in angst. How horrible! He'd been so excited and nervous that... he hadn't even noticed. What a crappy person he was - how undeserving of her friendship!

Ziggy carried her to his bedroom, and laid her in his bed. He pulled she sheets up to her shoulders, and brushed her hair from her face. "I'm sorry, Trixie." She had the most innocent, clueless expression on her face with her lips parted and her hair folded around her. It was endearing for once not to see a smirk of mischeviousness or scowl of displeasure. For once...

She looked at peace.


	12. Pixel's Plan

**Yesterday...**

Pixel's hands were sweating around the pot handle he held in his grip. He'd seen Trixie lurking from his bedroom window, and the idea that formed had been so treacherous, so horrible. However, he found himself in the Devil's grasp and doing his bidding. How could he resist the tempation? He needed some sleep tonight. To finally feel as if his dreams, his love, would be fulfilled. She was his only obstical, and he would overcome it. Desperately, he needed to overcome. His footsteps were precise along the grass, and oh-so delicate. He did not want the girl to realise his coming, because without her unsupected of him the plot would truly fail. He had no power over Trixie, and only if he caught her off guard could his idea unfold.

He was nearing now.

Trixie was resting against the yellow brick wall. She was looking out at the playing field of her youth with no thought of anyone around her. It was freezing outside, and a thin black jacket with holes in it wasn't doing her any good. The exposure to the cold was making her tired, and depressed. Her body becoming numb to the pain of the atmosphere. Her joints were tense, leaving her unable to move any extremes. She was closing her eyes, when Pixel struck her. The hard metal pot came in contact with the back of her head before Trixie knew anything had happened. The girl quickly falling onto the yellow wall limp, and unknowing.

Pixel watched in shock as her body slid down the wall, and collapsed on her back with blood pooling in the grass behind her head. He dropped the pot in shock, covering his mouth, and backing away... "What the fuck have I done?" He looked at his shaking hands, his fingers twitching and retracting towards his palms.

He grabbed his limp childhood friend, and raced towards his house before anyone could notice the mishap. With Trixie over his shoulder, he opened his closet and pressed a secret red button on the ceiling. The back of the wall split into two, and slid away to reveal a massive steel laboratory. It was vast with thousands of inventions lined up waiting to be used. A small robot rolled up with a small monitor for a face and a rectangular speaker for a mouth. "Do you need any assistance?" Suplee's voice spoke as the monitor lit up with her smiling face, the robot acting as her arms and legs.

"Suplee," Pixel spoke in horrified gasps. "Cle-Cl-Clear off the working desk."  
"Which one?"  
"ANY ONE! JUST DO IT, AND DO IT NOWWWW!" Pixel yelled. Suplee's shocked face dissolving into anger as the robot scooted away to do it's task. Pixel put Trixie's body on the desk. She was looking immensely pale, and the back of her head was matted with dried blood. "Suplee, get Trixie's readings."

The robot crossed it's arms. "Say please." Pixel shot it a pissed off look. "Say it!"

"Please, Suplee." Pixel seethed.

"No, say it like you mean it." The robot pointed at him threateningly.

He held his head. "Pleaassee."

"Okay!" Suplee chirped.

"Once I change Trixie's personality, Stephanie won't like her anymore. Trixie'll ruin everything, and then Stephanie will need me. Steph'll love me. I just have to make sure that Sportacus doesn't get involved." Pixel clenched his fist. "Then all my dreams will come true, and nothing will stand in my way."


End file.
